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Archive for May, 2013

The chimes on the porch sing so loudly in this easterly wind that I am lulled by the sweet afternoon concert in the shade of a walnut tree back to our silent discourse under the mango trees where we spoke in our own special language of smiles and looks – and gestures: not unlike the words of children at play all wide eyed, flinging arms- faces only inches from each other – so close I could see the light blue ring around the pupils of your dark eyes: like a bright orb around a dim planet gifting it with luminescence and uniqueness- something else we share beside our propensity for gloominess and love of words- irony of ironies for two poets to sit in a long muted pause.

Today the wind chimes and mating starlings have taken up your cause, breaking the permanent silence only death can bring: they sing relentlessly almost violently as if I needed a reminder that even now, and more so then ever you are to be heard, insisting my last promise be kept, and so I whisper to myself I will not stop writing ……. These words are now our only discourse, and like the chimes that hang quiet until the perfect wind creates an elegant and sudden harmony of notes, I live day to day weighing the value of an image: the movement of spring leaves in the evening light; as nuthaches climb the newly greening branches of the walnut tree like tiny tightropes, spinning their orange creamy breasts 180 degrees like the daredevils they are, or honing the syntax to be as clean as clear as precise as the hole some flicker has bored on our street’s light pole, day after day hour after hour drilling with its weapon of a beak so it may swoop deep into the cavity and sit in all its redcap glory peering at those below like the unknowing uninterested peons that we are.